


Kiss

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Series: Darkness and Light [11]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love doesn't need words, POV Clara Oswin Oswald, actually nothing but fluff, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:15:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: When Clara wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom she has no idea what happened."Coma" from Clara's point of view.





	Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> My romantic side just needed to re-write the last part of [Coma](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096476/chapters/50267432) from the viewpoint of Clara. Must be the season.  
Sorry. No, not really sorry, actually. :)

The room was nearly completely dark. Where was she? Had someone kidnapped her? Was it a prison? She couldn’t remember what had happened. Her last memories were from the TARDIS, something about data analyzing. Something about the Doctor’s vital force. Now she was here. How did she get here?

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to her surroundings and her vision was less blurry. A bedroom. Phew, so, no prison. As a time-traveler one sure learned to appreciate the little things. There was a chair nearby and someone was sitting on it. A hunched figure with unruly grey hair, a magician’s coat and white shirt, staring deeply worried to nowhere in particular.

The Doctor. Her Doctor. The memories flooded back to her. A Doctor close to regeneration. But they fixed it like they always fixed things. Of course, there had been a way. He just needed to share some of the bad things he had experienced. They had bonded telepathically so she could experience what happened, fueling his vital force. It had worked, she remembered the data. But then, everything had turned black and there was nothing more until now.

She was looking over to him. He looked so vulnerable, lost and alone as he sat there, she wanted to get up immediately and hug him. But she felt too weak to move even her little finger.

Suddenly he looked up and their eyes met. His eyes went wide and a whole range of emotions – relief, anxiousness, fear, hope – let his eyebrows dance. He got up carefully, as if he feared it might hurt her when he approached her too fast.

“Clara?”

He leaned over her, his eyes looking at her, questioning.

“How are you feeling?”

Torn. Shattered. Tired. Confused. And she had no idea where she was. She looked around the room and he seemed to understand what she wanted to know.

“We are in the Paternoster Row. You had a breakdown. But they helped. They brought you back to me. Everything is alright now.”

Ah, that explained the Victorian style of the furniture. The Doctor still looked worried. Was there something she was missing?

“Do you recognize me?”

What a stupid question. Who in the whole universe was running around in Victorian London dressed like some weird cross between magician, mad professor and retired rocker? But he seemed genuinely concerned. Daft old man. She smiled at him and reached up to his cheek.

She couldn’t form words – but then again, she didn’t have to. She saw immediately how his shoulders and eyebrows relaxed and how his eyes glistered with joy. He took her hand from his cheek and kissed it with a fervency and gentleness she hadn’t experienced from him so far.

“I’m going to inform the rest of the gang that you are awake. But don’t stay awake if you don’t feel like it. You need the rest, my Clara.”

His voice sounded incredibly soft. Then he leaned over to kiss her head. Her heart jumped and she felt warm inside. It was obvious the last few – Hours? Days? She wasn’t sure how much time had passed – really changed something.

He left the room to come back with Madame Vastra just moments later.

The Silurian checked her vital functions while the Doctor paced through the room. She doubted she had ever seen him so nervous. Madame Vastra made signs that he should follow outside. She wondered what they had to talk about. As far as she was concerned, she felt fine. Bit of a headache. Still a bit tired, maybe, she thought, as she drifted back to sleep.

She woke again and saw that the Doctor had returned and was about to take back his post on the chair. As soon as he realized she had opened her eyes, he was by her side. She wanted to feel him closer. She was still not able to form any words, so she settled for patting on the other side of the bed. He immediately followed her silent order and lay beside her. He kept the distance. This incarnation was really tediously coy. She tapped on her left shoulder and hoped he’d get the picture.

To her surprise he didn’t settle for an awkward rest-my-hand-on-that-shoulder-if-she-orders-me-to-do-so gesture but wrapped her properly and carefully into his arms. 

“I just told Madame Vastra that you will find a way to boss me around in sign language in no time, seems you already worked that one out,” he murmured softly, smiling the most tender smile she ever saw on him. Suddenly, he closed the last few inches and placed his lips on hers. She couldn’t believe how fondly this uptight and often rude incarnation could kiss. He quickly retreated as if he was frightened by his own boldness.

As surprised as she was that he had taken the first step, she was not going to let him go now. She grabbed his lapel and pulled him back to her lips. She returned the kiss and made her point clear. She loved him and it was high time he realized that she loved him exactly like he was now. No doubts, no second-guessing, no constraint, no fear and no more regrets.

She felt he got her message and returned it. Their kiss turned into a wordless conversation reassuring each other of their mutual feelings. Where words so often had failed them or turned out wrong, this kiss set everything right. It was an apology for everything that had gone wrong. It was a promise that whatever happened, one of them could never do or say anything that would make the other leave forever. They would accept each other’s quirks and failures. There was no strong or weak part in this equation, they were equals. They would carry and defend each other. They would never stop caring for each other. They would hold on to each other in good and bad times.

Finally, they parted lips and looked into each other’s eyes. She could drown in those eyes that held an expression of unconditional and all-encompassing love for her. She smiled at him and he smiled back at her. No need for words.

She felt how he carefully pulled her a bit closer to him and his hand reached out to stroke her hair. He even let his hand glide down to her cheek, caressing her face with his thumb. She nearly couldn’t believe there was this tender side on him.

“You should sleep some more, Clara Oswald,” he said in a low voice. “I need you well-rested for our next adventure.”

She nodded her agreement. She still felt like a space truck had hit her. But she wanted her grey-haired stick-insect of a timelord to stay close to her. She grabbed his lapel once more and made her intentions clear. He smiled and lay on his back so she could rest her head on his chest. He was a lot more comfortable than he looked on the outside, she thought as she snuggled into him. She felt him wrapping his arm protectively around her and after a short while she drifted off to sleep, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know how Clara got her speaking abilities back, read [Speechless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148518/chapters/52869367).


End file.
